the nerve of him

Pity me!

My tiny darling, little Nemo, apple of my eye, my voodoo princeling, my whiny familiar, has inadvertently caused me great pain by clawing the back of my hand in a moment of bully-passion. He’d been trying to dominate his brother and I intervened, and Nemo, all puffed out like a bigshot despite the fact hat he’s really just a tiny if vicious mammal, punctured a nerve, I guess, and now my hand is all screwy, and my forearm, too… just when I thought I’d found the MIRACLE CURE to my chronic pain (high doses of Vitamin D). This just feels so unbelievably creepy and it hurts to type so why am I typing? Because I’m annoyed. Well. Here is my little boy whom I love so and who has brought upon me this slow-healing torment. BAD KITTY.

And here are three outfits, because, well, why not.

Not sure what the ruffly sweater did to me to make we want to pose like Travolta.

Too matchy matchy maybe, but I like the op-art lines of the skirt.

Flamenco is the theme here in both the sweater sleeves and the ankle boots. I call this outfit, then, “cante jondo.” Really, in a perfect world, all outfits would have titles.

I’d like to add that Mr. Sullivan has recently acquired a taste for clothing shopping (that it took ten years of marriage to get him into this state is astounding). I would not, however, permit him to buy this stripe-y scarf, cute though it is, because a)it was $40 and b) it said “MOSCHINO” in big hideous letters at the bottom. I told him he shouldn’t pay, and especially not that much, to advertise someone else’s brand. Still, it’s a cute look, especially with his skinny purple Uniqlo jeans and Blundstone boots. That’s my guy!